


A Lifetime Among the Stars

by c_writes



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Drabbles, Short Stories, honestly i don't know what this will be at this point, it's all up to the fanfic gods, there may be laughs, there may be tears
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-10-30 12:16:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17828396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c_writes/pseuds/c_writes
Summary: McKirk short stories. Odd appearances from other members of the Enterprise crew. No smut. Probably emotions. I don't really know what else to say.





	1. Time

**Author's Note:**

> This was literally written in 20 minutes because I couldn't get it out of my head. Please leave a review to let me know what you think. I honestly have no clue what the next drabble/short story will be so any prompts would be most welcome x 
> 
> PS bonus points if you can identify the statue that inspired my first paragraph.

Bones stood at the base of the statue, staring up at the ancient, ageless face above him. It was carved into cold granite and managed to express grandeur and strength and majesty despite the fact that it was little more than a crowned head, half a torso and a third of one arm. Time, Bones supposed, could do that to you. 

Time is cruel. You could spend your entire life thinking what you’re doing is important and world-changing and world-making, then bang you’re dead and the world moves on. Sure, you might leave a statue or several, or a kingdom, or a family, but your physical touch and impact will fade, swept away into the distant past. Even stone could chip and break. What starts as a complete version of you will eventually crumble, reducing you to a head, half a torso and a third of one arm. And when there’s nothing but sand and an echo, who’ll remember you? 

Time is humbling. 

And yet. 

Time is beautiful. It’s wondrous. It’s one glorious day after another, a seemingly endless cycle of seconds, stretching out and out and out. Time is days spent lounging under red suns and orange skies, and nights spent huddled under a blanket counting the stars. It’s stolen conversations and secret smiles and hidden touches. It’s lazy breakfasts and hurried breakfasts and missed breakfasts. Time is those intimate moments between breaths, when your eyes meet and your breath hitches for just a moment. It’s the rush to touch him and the need for more more more-

It’s thousands of those fleeting moments, every day. 

And yet. 

Time is two months. Time is terminal. Time is a deadline and something inside you that can’t be fixed, growing and growing and sapping you, like a goddamn parasite. Time is twenty long minutes that change the rest of eternity. 

And yet. 

Time is golden hair, and blue eyes, and laughter, and strength. Time is every last minute together. 

Time is cruel. Time is humbling. Time is beautiful. Time is him.


	2. Retirement Doesn't Get Much Better Than This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the idea of Jim and Bones retiring to a farm in Georgia and being happy and domestic. I also love the idea of Jim Kirk being an impulse buyer and using his savings/pension to buy ridiculous things every now and then. Hence, this.

Looking out across the farm from his spot on the porch, a mug of fresh coffee cradled in his hands, Dr Leonard McCoy was pretty sure that retirement couldn’t get much better than this. Autumn was just arriving, turning the trees into flame, a symphony of burnt oranges and reds and yellows. The air was cooler, without the heavy humidity of summer hanging in it. He could hear Jim humming to himself in the kitchen as he fixed their breakfast. As he took a deep breath, relishing the rich, bitter smell of his coffee, he thought that yes, retirement definitely couldn’t get better than this.

The appearance of three tall shapes at the edge of the tree line in the nearest field drew him out of his reverie. Squinting at them- his eyes weren’t as good as they used to be, years of surgery and bright lights and looking at medical charts had seen to that- he could just make out three sets of four spindly legs, round bodies, and what looked like absurdly long necks.

He may be a doctor with poor eyesight, and in no way an animal expert, but he was pretty sure that those weren’t their two horses. For one thing, there were three of them. For another, the horses were in a different field to the back of the house. Keeping his eyes on the shapes, he twisted slightly in his chair.

‘Jim?’

A muffled response came from inside the house.

‘The pancakes can wait, darlin’. I need you out here for a second.’

He heard footsteps making their way down the hallway, and then the door creaked open. Jim stepped out, wiping his hands on his apron. He crossed the porch to where Leonard was sitting and pressed a kiss to his cheek before taking the seat next to him. Leaning back, he draped an arm across Leonard’s shoulder.

‘You called?’

‘There’s something in the field.’

‘Oh right. Those.’

Leonard turned to look at his husband, confused.

‘You’ve seen them before?’

Jim chuckled, one hand lazily running through Leonard’s hair.

‘Well yes. I bought them. Yesterday.’

At that, Leonard pulled away so that he could look at Jim fully. Jim’s eyes were twinkling, the laugh lines around his eyes deepening. Leonard raised an eyebrow in an unspoken question. Jim simply grinned and pulled him close again. Leonard twisted slightly, looking up at him with an eyebrow still raised.

‘Were you planning on telling me what those are, or not?’

‘Sorry, got distracted.’ Despite himself, Leonard smiled.

‘Those,’ Jim said, his lips lightly kissing the top of Leonard’s head, ‘are my alpacas.’


End file.
